It wasn’t slow and mechanical. It wasn’t light and timid. It wasn’t done out of a sense of obligation.

Ward licked, bit, and tongue-fucked my pussy because he wanted to.

No.

Because he needed to.

I didn’t think I’d get off from oral, but my back hit the table as his tongue speared into me. My legs spread wider to accommodate him. My hand went to his hair, holding his head to me.

His finger replaced his tongue, filling and stretching me before he added another. “When you come all over my hand,” he said, pausing to flick my clit, “I’m gonna use it to stroke my dick.” Another flick. “Just like I did last night.”

Oh fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

As hot as that sounded, I hazily wondered why he needed his hand. I was there. Nearly naked. Why couldn’t we…

But before the thought—and any ensuing doubt—could fully take root, his teeth skimmed my clit, and his tongue rolled it. Over and over and over. When his thick fingers hit a spot that made my eyes roll back, I was lost.

Because I’d finally found it.

The orgasm that I’d been working for all night crashed over me. I writhed on the table, riding through the never-ending waves that threatened to drown me in pleasure.

Ward’s touch softened as my languid body twitched. My breathing was shallow. I fought to fill my lungs and get my brain to function again.

The sound of a zipper cut through the heavy silence a moment before his mouth and hand disappeared. His finger filled me, slowly plunging in and out, but it wasn’t the same hand as before.

Ward spit and then grunted loudly, the sound becoming muffled as he buried his face in my pussy again. His pressure was gentler, like he knew I was oversensitive and skating the line between pleasure and pain, but his tongue moved faster. Eager.

Unhinged.

His shoulder bounced under my thigh, and it took me a moment to realize what he was doing.

Just as he’d said he would, Ward used my release to jack off.

I wanted to watch him fist his cock and move it up the length. I wanted to know how tight he gripped it. How hard he was. What speed he preferred. I wasn’t sure I’d ever wanted to see something so bad in my entire life. But I couldn’t shift away. I couldn’t lift my head. The knowledge of what he was doing and the visual my imagination crafted was enough to completely undo me. I shattered into a million pieces, barely holding in a scream that would wake the neighborhood.

Ward groaned as he lapped at me, his arm stroking faster. Wilder. Moving his head to the side, he bit my thigh as his harsh grunts sent another surge of arousal and aftershocks to my oversensitive core.